


Monster

by Thisinsignificantpride



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: ???? - Freeform, Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, a little bit it's light, mostly innerworkings of Tendou thinking about the things people in the stands yell about him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 08:03:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4556976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thisinsignificantpride/pseuds/Thisinsignificantpride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Tendou's thoughts attack him at the most inopportune moments and there's only one person who can help him escape the darkness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monster

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a talk between me and kawaiinishi on twitter!! Just a quick write up at 3am.

Tendou is used to the jeers by now. He’s learned how to tune out the things the crowd says during games. The mob, as he likes to call them. They’re just faceless mannequins strewn around the gym. They watch him play. Their words don’t mean anything. They’re the mob. Always there. Always critical. Always seeing every mistake. They’re not going anywhere and Tendou has accepted it.

And yet.

And yet…

_“It’s started.”_

_“The guess monster!”_

It. Monster. The words rip through the barrier Tendou has worked so hard to build up around him. They tear at his insides, threaten to leave him with nothing but self-loathing and hatred for his ever present spectators. He sneers, curling his fingers at his sides. It’s an expression he directs toward his opponents, tries to pass off as a competitive jeer.

But his eyes keep darting at the stands where the shouts originated from. He searches for the face that gave him such an ugly reference.

Of course, he’s never let on that the nickname has bothered him. For a long time Tendou had no problems with being called The Guess Monster. The monicker was always meant as a testament to his inhumane blocking skills, and he liked that. But the longer it was used, the more got lost in translation.

The nickname was no longer thought of as an indication of how good he was at volleyball, but instead it became a definitive of his character. Tendou was no longer Tendou Satori, beast of guess blocking. No. Tendou was now Guesu Monster, a nasty piece of work.

Each new block he performed with newfound aggression and accuracy until his name was being chanted, filling the gym with echoes of “ _Tendou, Tendou, Tendou_.” It helped to quiet his thoughts, things he could do without during the heat of a game.

Still.

Every so often he could pick out small voices. They shouldn’t mean anything. In fact, they didn’t mean anything, but they also meant everything.

_It._

_Monster._

_The one other teams didn’t want._

Tendou’s breath comes in ragged pants as he bends over forward, his arms curling at his sides, fists clenched into fists. He hears his the voices of his teammates, but they’re so far away. Their voices are mere pindrops amongst the shouts and screams of those ugly, ugly words.  

**_It. Monster. It. Monster. It. It. It. It. Monster._ **

_**It.** _

A hand claps over his shoulder, dragging Tendou out of the deep, dark recesses of his mind. He jerks his head up, eyes wide and pupils blown out. He’s met with the stoic gaze of Kawanishi Taichi. Kawanishi looks less than amused with Tendou’s breakdown. Tendou couldn’t blame him. They were in the middle of a game, after all.

“Ah, sorry, Taichi-kun,” Tendou says, fake smile shining faux sunshine.

Kawnaishi’s gaze narrows even more than normal, and he grips the front of Tendou’s jersey, pulling him close. Their noses are pressed together and Tendou releases a soft _meep_ , eyes wide with surprise.

Then, without an ounce of embarrassment or shame, Kawanishi presses his lips against Tendou’s.

In the middle of the court.

During the second set of the match.

The kiss is short, sweet, nothing obscene by any means, but the tips of Tendou’s fingers tingle and his toes go numb. By the time Kawanishi has released him, Tendou’s smiling like a western cartoon character, his droopy eyelids droopier than normal.

“Taichi-kuuuun,” Tendou drones, rocking on his heels. “What was that for?”

Kawanishi pinches the bridge of Tendou’s nose. His expression is steeled over, but his eyes are flooded with concern.

“You’re not a monster,” Kawanishi says.

Tendou stiffens, mouth parting. He’s well aware that they’re still on the court and everyone in the gym is staring at them. Coach Washijou will probably make them run laps until they throw up later for doing this, but Tendou can’t seem to move. His feet feel like they’ve been sealed in cement and all his limbs are heavy. His eyes are glued onto Kawanishi. Kawanishi Taichi, the most gorgeous person Tendou has ever seen. Kawanishi Taichi, who thinks Tendou isn’t the thing he fears the most.

Kawanishi Taichi, the boy Tendou is head over heels, undoubtedly and impossibly in love with.

“Taichi-”

“You’re not a monster.” Kawanishi removes his hand from Tendou’s face, ignoring the shouts from their coach. “You’re an angel, Satori. My guardian angel. Don’t ever let anyone make you think differently.”

There’s a moment where everything seems to freeze over. Tendou can feel the earlier thoughts that had attempted to drown him slowly drain from his subconscious until he’s left with peaceful contentment. It’s a relief, a huge strain lifted off his shoulders. Tendou smiles. A _real_ smile. The kind that brightens up his entire face and illuminates the room around him.

“Thank you, Taichi.”

Kawanishi gives a small grin of his own in response, nudging the older middle blocker in the side. “It’s your serve, idiot.”

Tendou laughs, rejuvenated and ready to face whatever punishment the coach had in store for them after the match.

As he catches the ball that’s thrown to him, Tendou walks a deliberate path by Kawanishi, a devious smile clouding his features.

“Hey, Taichi,” he says, voice playful. “You still using watermelon chapstick?”

Kawanishi doesn’t respond, only rolls his eyes. But from the way he turns his face away, Tendou knows there’s a blush on those perfect cheeks. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm guessblockmomster on tumblr.


End file.
